The Meaning of (W)hole
by bubblyangel101
Summary: "Hoping that you're happ-screw this. I miss you. So. Damn. Much." Because underneath it all, Kaito's easily hurt-and Aoko worries. KaiAo, one-shot.


AN: Started off as a side in a monster KaiAo fic I'm working on (it doesn't want to end), then sort of morphed into its own little one-shot. Enjoy!

The Meaning of (W)hole

Summary: "Hoping that you're happ-screw this. I miss you. So. Damn. Much." Because underneath it all, Kaito's easily hurt-and Aoko worries. KaiAo, one-shot.

oOo

There are many types of holes. Jagged and rust-worn. Smooth and omnipotent. Crusted-over, bread-like entities in side alleys, dirt-filled with just a hint of green and sunflowers.

The most obvious things about holes (or at least-macroscopic ones) are that you can't ignore them. That they mean something, contain something-or was it something that's left of something? Aoko doesn't know, only knows that the holes in her life seem to have conspired in some all-knowing plot to make themselves bigger.

Kid. Kaito. Dad. (Or should it be Dad, Kaito, Kid?) Kid, who has gone and gotten himself shot in the arm before collapsing into yet another harbor, dismayed cries of policemen ringing out after him from 32 stories above. Kaito, who's been growing more and more distant and then absent all-together. Dad, who insists on 'celebrating' with his men until dawn every day since Kid's disappearance when Aoko really knows all he wants to do is drink and forget, drink and forget.

It's a lonely house. (Or perhaps-a lonely hole?)

It's the seventh day since Kid's disappearance that Kaito appears on her doorstep, soaked to the core and smelling alcohol-sweet. "Heyy," he slurs, a goofy grin on his face. "I'm home."

Aoko glances from the storm outside to the shivering mess of a boy to her warm, fluffy couch with reindeer pillows and finally relents. "Well, get in, you idiot." Then, pausing, "Wait. You need to get dried off first-"

"I'm okay-"

She grabs his arm and he howls in pain, dropping to the floor in a surprisingly lithe crouch given his inebriated state, and for a moment she swears there is blood darkening his white collared shirt. (She doesn't understand then. She does, someday-and cries. For him.) "Just...sleep," he mumbles, dragging himself over to the couch with a tired sigh.

Aoko sighs, going to the kitchen for a cool cloth, a glass of water, and some aspirin. Goes to carry them outside-then, with a half-smile, fetches a cup of tea and dumps five packets of sugar into it. Heaven knows he'll need his daily dose to recover.

"Drink this. Now."

Kaito stirs, one catlike sliver of blue expanding briefly to focus on her. "Wha.."

She rolls her eyes and pours the rest down his throat.

He's strangely adorable when he sleeps, black locks splayed haphazardly across surprisingly pale skin, the droplets tracing thin rivers down his face and into the collar of what looks like a standard businessman's outfit.

Kaito. Always the perfectionist-even if it is to pretend to be legal. She smiles, then curls up on the loveseat herself.

When she wakes, he's gone.

oOo

Weeks pass. Aoko feels the holes widening, threatening to swallow her up-

 _I'm home. I'm home. I'm home._ -and then, maybe this isn't so bad. Tomorrow will be better, yes, tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

She laughs and writes poems to tear up. _Kid still hasn't shown, Dad hasn't come home, Kaito's off somewhere cold, Aoko's still all alone-_

The night, after all, is the longest.

She finds herself thinking out letters to Kaito. Not Kid, or Dad-the former she can't read at all, the latter too much to take. So she's left with Kaito, who's half-in-between, like bitter and sweet and swirled ice cream.

She only writes down two. The first goes like this: _I miss you a lot. I don't know why you left. I'd be angry at you, but I don't think I have the energy. It's late and I miss you and I miss running out to hide in the fountains and catching fireflies and constellations and dreams and shooting stars. I miss walking to school and studying for Modern Civ and college app frustrations and polka-dotted blond hair. I miss magic and cards and choke-free smoke bombs and scarves and mops and someone to sit next to in Homeroom. I miss-_

It could go on for pages. And years. And then some. So she stops the first, and begins the second.

 _Kid's gone. Dad's gone. You're gone. It's not right-and you could ask if I'm angry. But the truth? I'm just hoping you're okay. Hoping you haven't fallen into a ditch that's too deep for you to ask for help. Hoping that you're happ-screw this. I miss you. So. Damn. Much._

That's the one she sends.

oOo

There's a paper crane waiting for her in her mailbox when she gets back, perfectly creased and white and not squashed at all. Well, maybe a little.

She unfolds it rapidly.

It's the next heist notice, mailed and addressed directly to Miss Nakamori Aoko.

First, she's shocked-and a bit scared that Kid has figured out her subconscious theory about the holes, about connecting them all together, about shrinking them when she's been trying and failing for much, much longer. Then she's confused, and waiting, and waiting for Dad to come home so she can show him.

She stays that way until 4:24 AM.

oOo

At 4:24 AM, Nakamori Ginzo crashes into the living room with his characteristic booming footprints: _Ba-thump ba-thump ba-thump thump._

"Dad," begins Aoko, notice in hand. "He-"

A swivel of the head, then bloodshot eyes come to life. "I knew he...I knew-"

The next day, he comes home at 6 pm and asks for dinner.

oOo

Days later, when Suzuki Sonoko throws a flash bomb and morphs into Kid, Aoko is shocked. Suzuki Sonoko, who has been wearing a sleeveless blue sundress, both arms distinctly hole-free.

"Told you I was okay," he smirks, except he _hasn't,_ hasn't said a word to her or her dad or anyone since that cold, cold night.

"Who said I was worried?" she throws back sharply, then sees his eyes soften unexpectedly.

" _You_ did," he says gently.

He gets away that night.

oOo

She wakes up the next morning to doves pecking on her window. Groans, then sits straight up in shocked realization and dashes off, getting ready in a record 5 minutes and 10 seconds.

Kaito's waiting on the doorstep, black bookbag slung over his shoulder. "Hey," he says, low and earnest. "I'm sorry."

Suddenly there's a lump in her throat that won't let her let out anything but a choked laugh.

"'The truth is-I've missed you. So. Damn. Much,'" he quotes, eyebrow raised, voice guttural. "Well, _I've_ missed you a hell of a lot more than a damn."

He leans down and kisses her hard, hands trembling, eyes shut.

And as she rises on her tiptoes to kiss him back, the last hole closing rapidly to fade even without a scar, Aoko feels a new one start growing in her heart, empty and full of promises for the future.


End file.
